There are no lies
in the whites of your eyes;
no mask of salvation
in your lips' vibration,
nor lack of vanity
in your cheek's angularity.
You are perfection imperfect,
with your lip gloss licked
and your eyelashes mascaraed
and your delicate throat scarred.

darkness, you bitch, you did it again, always in the way of a good yarn; always in the spotlight of someone else's adagio. darkness, you whore, you're at it again, sucking off strangers for a poke of chips; sucking off future husbands who just beat you black and blue when the door closes and curtains draw shut. darkness, you slut, you're here again, living off the crumbs of last week's loaf and sprinkling them over the cold-skinned soup; living off the kids you'd just have died if you didn't have. darkness, you slag, I can see the vibration in your lips.
in a way, these feel like two seperate poems that are informed by each other but don't directly comment on each other. i feel that the attempt to bring them together was unsuccessful ("i can see the vibration in your lips" relating to the imagery in the first stanza), mostly just because the character seems radically different in both.

I liked the second stanza better, the imagery and pacing was nice, though "a poke of chips" feels out of place, as did "you slag". the images are really great. i think the rhyming put me off for the first stanza, though that's largely a personal preference.